Primordial Era: Starting with Self-Created Mythical Great Luo Law

Three years passed in the blink of an eye, and Chen Yu's magical power leaped to the peak of the Golden Core stage.

Although he is still far from being a Taiyi Loose Immortal, ordinary Golden Core cultivators are like children wielding sticks in front of him, utterly vulnerable.

In these three years, the primordial world has also been in turmoil.

The Chan and Jie sects first engaged in verbal sparring, and then resorted to physical violence—the Jie sect accused Yuanshi Tianzun of favoring the Western sect and losing fairness; Yuanshi Tianzun refused to admit responsibility and instead ridiculed the Jie sect for being arrogant and unruly.

The verbal exchange quickly escalated into a full-blown battle, with disciples of both sects engaging in a series of bloody fights outside Kunlun Ruins.

One day, the two sides completely broke off relations. The flames of war spread into the chaotic void, and the main forces of the two sects stormed into the rifts of chaos, fighting relentlessly for a thousand years in the turbulent flow of time and space.

The battle was extremely brutal: less than one in ten disciples of the Chan Sect survived, and only a handful of people, including Guang Chengzi, Manjushri, Samantabhadra, and Julusun, escaped with injuries; the Jie Sect suffered even greater losses, with nearly a hundred elite inner disciples falling on the spot, their bodies never to be found.

Even the sage Laozi was severely injured in the battle with the Tongtian Sect Leader, his purple aura dissipated, and he has been missing ever since.

After the earth-shattering duel between the Tongtian Sect Leader and the two Western Saints, he disappeared from the world like a kite with a broken string.

Although the two Western Saints had long coveted the human race and wanted to seize power through the influence of destiny, they were always wary of the remaining power of the Tongtian Sect Master and only dared to lie low and watch, not daring to make any rash moves.

With the departure of the Tongtian Sect Master, the fate of humanity fell entirely on Chen Yu's shoulders. He established temples and altars, gathered a large following, used incense to cast cauldrons, and nurtured his spirit with faith. His lineage gradually took shape, and his cultivation level rose accordingly, ultimately making him the sole leader of the prehistoric human race.

Ten thousand miles away, the Tongtian Sect Leader sat alone in the darkest part of the void, quietly contemplating the primordial purple qi.

He had reached that mysterious barrier—neither mist nor wall, tangible yet impossible to penetrate. He had tried three times, each time being repelled by an invisible force at the last moment.

He knew that the gate to the primordial chaos was not open because his methods were not refined, but because the time and resources were insufficient.

Meanwhile, Chen Yu traversed the vast and desolate mountains and marshes, wandering among broken steles and ruins, and groping through ancient tombs and desolate graves. He was not seeking legends, but a glimmer of opportunity that could break the shackles of his cultivation realm.

This world is so rich in spiritual energy that it almost condenses into mist. Lingzhi mushrooms exhale rosy clouds, vermilion fruits hang from branches, and dragon whisker grass sways with light in the mountains and fields. Everywhere is a treasure land that cultivators dream of.

Chen Yu settled here, and his cultivation progressed like a spring tide breaking through ice, unstoppable—in just a few months, he broke through several realms and reached the peak of the Golden Core stage; his combat strength also increased by leaps and bounds, and he had already firmly surpassed ordinary Taiyi Loose Immortals.

On the other side, Nuwa and Fuxi, like bamboo shoots after a rain, saw their cultivation levels rise steadily, and not long ago they both crossed the threshold of the Golden Core stage.

Although their progress was rapid, it was like a gushing stream, with a source but also an end; unlike Chen Yu, whose magical power was as vast as the sea, inexhaustible and limitless.

His foundation and natural talent were inferior to his, so his realm quickly hit a bottleneck and he could hardly make any further progress.

Of course, Chen Yu's rise to power was not without its challenges. He faced death countless times, and his life hung by a thread several times. If it weren't for the timely help of benefactors who secretly thwarted his plans, he would likely have long since turned into a mound of cold earth in a desolate mountain.

On this day, as Chen Yu stepped out of the secluded valley and dense forest, he suddenly felt a gust of cold wind rushing towards him.

The wind was biting and piercing, carrying the scent of decaying leaves and the depths of a frigid pool, sending a chill down his spine and making his hair stand on end. He squinted and looked around, saying in a deep voice, "How strange—how could such a malevolent north wind rise in this place?"

"Hmph, this is my sacred ground!"

Before he could finish speaking, a streak of dark light tore through the clouds, crashing to the ground with the force of thunder, and landed steadily three steps in front of him.

It was a sword, its entire body as black as night, its blade gleaming with a cold light that seemed capable of severing the soul; the scabbard was embossed with cloud and thunder patterns, ancient and sinister, its imposing aura seemingly suppressing the world.

Chen Yu stared intently, his pupils suddenly contracting, and he exclaimed, "What a sword! It's actually the Immortal-Slaying Flying Knife!"

This sword is renowned throughout the primordial world. Legend has it that it once cleaved the rifts of chaos and beheaded ancient demons, earning the title "One blade, and all obstacles are severed." Chen Yu stared at it, his heart pounding like a drum, his fingertips burning.

The sword was silent, yet seemed to breathe; its steady and weighty nature concealed the power of thunder.

He reached out and gently stroked the blade, a sharp, stinging pain instantly shooting through his fingertips, while the sword itself trembled slightly, as if a long-lost friend was responding to his pulse.

"This sword is no ordinary weapon; it will surely be the sharpest weapon on my path to enlightenment," he thought with certainty.

Before the words were finished, the air around him distorted, and a tall, illusory figure appeared out of thin air—his eyebrows were like knives, his eyes were like lightning, and his robes moved without wind, firmly locking the divine weapon in Chen Yu's hand.

"Young man, you have a good eye. You can recognize its origins. You're lucky." The voice was like the clash of metal, making eardrums buzz.

Chen Yu felt a chill run down his spine, sensing that the other party's aura was as deep as the sea, making it hard to breathe.

"Who are you, senior? Why are you here?" He clasped his hands and bowed, his tone cautious, but his eyes were surprisingly bright.

The illusory figure smiled slightly: "I am the former master of this sword. In the past, I traversed the primordial world, and countless souls perished beneath my blade. Now, my true spirit is about to dissipate, leaving only this blade, which will choose its master."

Chen Yu felt a surge of warmth in his heart and suddenly realized: this sword was the spark he was destined to wield.

"May I ask, senior, would you be willing to impart a few moves of true swordsmanship?" He bowed his head and pleaded, his posture respectful yet not humble.

The phantom nodded and flicked its finger—a silver-white sword aura pierced through the air and struck him squarely between the eyebrows.

In an instant, Chen Yu's mind exploded with countless sword intents surging like rivers, crisscrossing and opening up a clear understanding. All those obscure and difficult-to-understand key points were now illuminated.

The illusory figure smiled and said, "Your bone structure is extraordinary, and your character is resolute. Your future is limitless. Wield this sword, uphold righteousness, and protect all living beings—the spark of the primordial world is entrusted to you."

After speaking, his figure vanished like smoke, leaving only the Immortal-Slaying Flying Knife hovering silently, its tip trembling slightly, its cold light swirling.

Chen Yu gripped the sword hilt tightly, his palm slightly cool, but his heart burning with passion. He looked up at the sky, his gaze as firm as iron: with this sword in his hand, he would not tolerate the rampant demonic forces, nor allow humanity to be tainted.

He clenched his fingers, his knuckles turning white, the chill in his palm seeping into his blood, yet it could not extinguish the raging fire in his chest.

He knew that this sword was not the end, but the starting point for him to truly reach the peak.

…………

The sea of ​​clouds surged, and the sky was as clear as a mirror. Chen Yu trod on the flowing clouds, his clothes fluttering, his figure as sturdy as a pine tree, and his eyes as sharp as blades.

The Immortal-Slaying Flying Knife was swung with the momentum, its sword energy tearing through the sky and leaving a dazzling silver trail, as if a star trail had fallen to earth.

His peak Golden Core cultivation surged within him, every bit of power resonating with the sword intent.

The Immortal-Slaying Flying Knife is no longer just a weapon, but an extension of his will, the rhythm of his breath, and the echo of his heartbeat—the true meaning of swordsmanship flows like living water, and profound mysteries come one after another, as clear as the lines on the palm of one's hand.

At the summit of Lingyun, Chen Yu stood still, holding his breath. His aura surged like the tide, and the spiritual energy of the primordial world was rushing towards him.

He slowly inhaled and exhaled, and a powerful force suddenly awakened within his body, carrying the chilling sharpness of the Immortal-Slaying Flying Knife, and burst forth from his body.